


Having an Experience

by BlueWingedAngel



Category: Defiance (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 20:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1023171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueWingedAngel/pseuds/BlueWingedAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irisa tries to pick up a guy to experience her first time. Nolan is not impressed and offers to aid her in having the experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Having an Experience

**Author's Note:**

> I could say "they're not related!" as a way of justifying my wrong-ship but I have no desire to justify it. I love these two, whether they're father/daughter or in a sexual relationship, and right now I'm enjoying the shippy sexual side of things. 
> 
> So the only thing I ask is no hate, please. If you don't like Nolan/Irisa as a ship, just hit the back button. <3

The taste of vodka was bitter in Irisa’s mouth as she downed another shot, laughing as Nolan struggled to keep up with her. “I thought you could  _outdrink any man, woman or Castithan, let alone your own daughter?_ ” she questioned in utter amusement.

He slurred his words as he replied, “I forgot my daughter was an Irathient,” he grumbled and pawed at his own face as he tried to sober up enough to get drunker. “What’s your excuse?!”

“For what?” she asked, pouring more drink into several shot glasses. “For kicking the shtako out of you?”

“...yeah! That!” he said, waving his hand around.

“I have no excuse,” she said and downed another shot.

“How many’s that now?” he said.

“Too many.” She could feel the alcohol seeping through her system, lowering her inhibitions if not removing her ability to talk. To humans, she still seemed sober, but her inebriation would be revealed once she stood up and couldn’t stay upright for more than a second.

“That’s... not a number!” he exclaimed at her. “You’re too drunk to know that’s not an number!”

She grinned at him. “Gonna... get us another bottle.” She scraped herself out of her chair and staggered over to the bar and he watched her go, his blue eyes blurry and unfocussed.

She slammed her forearms down onto the bar and grinned drunkenly. “Weeeeeee’ll have another of those... vodkas!” she informed the bartender, who shot her an amused look and moved away to provide.

A man, equally as drunk as her and Irathient the same, leant against the bar and smirked. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing in a dingy dive like this?”

She recognised him as having been around humans as long as she, and she relaxed a little, smirking back at him and shrugging. “Got dragged here. What’s your excuse?”

The next words out of his mouth were flirtatious, and she countered the same, using her body more than her words to show her interest. She’d not found anyone she’d been interested in before, Nolan moving them around so often she couldn’t really form any lasting romantic bonds with anyone, let alone sexual ones, but she could see herself going home with this man. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just him.

“Time to go, Irisa,” came Nolan’s voice after a few minutes and she turned her head to see him standing right behind her. He settled a hand on her waist and she glanced at the Irathient man she’d been so keen on just seconds before.

“I was...” she started and Nolan’s fingertips dug into her hip.

“Time to go,” he repeated and tugged on her.

She knew she could fight, dig her heels in like a bratty teenager. The man would probably even back her up, take her away and have her in a corner somewhere like her whole body thrummed for, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it, to hurt Nolan, to _leave_ Nolan like that, even if she’d return by morning.

She nodded and turned with him, letting him guide her across the bar and out onto the street and further, towards the little dive they’d colonised recently. She didn’t like towns, liked cities even less, but occasionally they were necessary. Nolan chose outposts more often than the bigger options and this was one of those. They’d rented a room for a few nights and they shared like always, the two of them crashing out on the same mattress. Sometimes he held her. Sometimes she hit him for trying. Sometimes she crawled onto his chest and refused to move.

“What was that?” she demanded once they were across the street and he was fumbling to unlock the door.

“I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” Nolan said flatly. She didn’t help him with the door, knowing his pride would likely get the better of them both if she tried and they’d end up sprawled out on the floor again after a struggle over the key.

“He was looking at me the same way I was looking at him.” She stalked inside once the door was open and she heard it slam behind Nolan as he followed her in. The room was small and dingy with only a small window and an old, moth-eaten mattress on the floor.

“I don’t care how _you_ were looking at him!” he exclaimed. “No one looks at my daughter that way!”

She turned and glared at him. “Like I’m sexy?”

He paused. “...well, yeah.”

“So no one finds me sexy?” she enquired.

He squinted at her. “I think you’re trying to entrap me and I’m too drunk to find a safe path out of it.”

She glared at him and turned her back, lowering her head. “I just wanted an experience,” she said flatly.

“I know,” he murmured and took a few steps closer. His words were still slurring and the room was still spinning around her and she knew they were too drunk to have a heart-to-heart. “Why’s it gotta be a stranger, Irisa?”

She turned back around, eyes flashing. “Because that’s all I’ve got!” she exclaimed. “We keep on the move all time, Nolan! There’s only strangers! Or you!”

He watched her and she watched him back as what she’d just said sunk in. He didn’t speak and she swallowed.

“I didn’t want his hands all over you,” Nolan said quietly after a moment. “He wouldn’t have treated you right. You deserve to be treated right, especially the first time...” He didn’t even question whether it would have been the first time. He knew, she knew he knew. There’d never been anyone, not since she was old enough to think that way. “You’re mine, that means I care about how you’re treated. I care you won’t get hurt, especially not trying to have an experience like that...”

“I don’t have anyone who’d treat me right, first time or any time,” she said.

He laughed a little and flapped his arms. “Well, there’s me!”

She flicked her eyes up to his. “Is that something human fathers do with their daughters?” she questioned, watching him. “I know that every race has different traditions...” She frowned a little as she considered.

“No,” he said quietly. “That’s... definitely not something human fathers do with their daughters, but you’re not...” He scrubbed a hand over his head and almost missed his own skull. “You’re my daughter because we choose to be father and daughter not... because of biology.”

She didn’t take her eyes off him. “I know that.”

He sighed and wandered over to the mattress, flopping down on it. She followed and knelt by his side then lay down, watching him. “I just didn’t want his hands all over you,” he said again, quieter this time. “You’re just... mine, s’all.”

He was starting to lose coherency, she could tell, the effects of the alcohol finally phasing into causing him to drop out of consciousness.

“Go to sleep, Nolan,” she said. “We won’t talk about this in the morning.” She lay next to him with her hands on her stomach and closed her eyes.

“It’s something human men do with the women they love,” he mumbled as he drifted off.

She turned her head and watched him sleep.

***

He stirred hours later and she greeted him with a glass of water and a smile. “You’re stinkin’ up my floor.”

“Your floor,” he scoffed and took the glass, downing it in one go. “I’m going back to sleep,” he informed her and lay back down. His body seemed to have other plans but instead of doing what she usually did, averting her eyes, she looked down at him, then back up to his face.

“...what’re you doing, Irisa?” he said, squinting one eye open.

“Do you remember last night, Nolan?” she asked.

He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Ummm,” he said. “I, uh. No?”

“Yes, you do,” she said. “If you didn’t you’d be apologising.” She stretched out by his side. “Was it an offer?”

“Geez, Irisa,” he grumbled. “I don’t... it’s not really...”

She propped her head up on her arm and didn’t take her eyes off his face this time. “Was it an offer?” she said again.

He looked at her. “I guess, but I was really drunk and---”

“I trust you,” she said. “I trust you and I don’t... trust anyone else. I trust you and I... love you, and we’re not related. It makes logical sense for me to turn to you to give me a first experience to set myself up for the rest of my life.”

He squinted at her. “It... does?” he said.

“It does,” she said. “It’ll give me the experience I need to tackle future sexual relationships without---”

He winced. “Shut up,” he begged and reached out, putting a hand on the back of her head and pulling her in, kissing her.

She stilled for a moment and her mind reeled, because in _theory_ this had been a good idea, but this was _Nolan_ , this was her surrogate father, this was... Well, it was _Nolan_. It was her idiot, her saviour. It was _No-lan_.

“Shtako,” he grumbled and let go of her when she didn’t respond to the kiss. “Look, let’s just pretend this never happened, okay?” He sat up and groaned. “I’m going to go shave and---”

She cut him off this time, crawling into his lap like a cat and lifting her face to meet his, pressing her lips to his, inexperienced and tentative.

He made a low noise in his chest and put a hand on her hip, his rough fingertips scratching against her soft skin.

She closed her eyes after a second and leant her head down a little, letting him lead the kiss with gentle lips against hers, his fingers holding her hip and coaxing her closer until her thigh was resting against his and her hands settled on his shoulder and his elbow. He nipped her lower lip and she parted her lips in response, his breath entering her mouth and lungs, warm and tasting of him.

She tilted her face down, let every muscle relax all at once, and then pushed against the kiss. He made a low grunting noise and dropped back, his shoulders hitting the mattress again, and she moved with him, hands landing on his chest this time and her lips parting against his once more, her lower lip sliding between his.

He caught it between his and tugged just a little, then his tongue swiped across it and she shuddered because nothing in her life had ever felt like that. He lifted the hand that wasn’t on her waist and tangled his fingers in her hair, wrapping it around them until he could get a fistful and hold her by it. She made a low growling noise and he rolled on top of her, his firm body pressing against hers. She kept her eyes closed and pushed up against him and he pushed down on her in return, breaking the kiss.

“Okay?” he murmured, his blue eyes boring into hers, visibly searching for any sign of discomfort or unrest in her. She felt none of it, nothing but desire to be touched by him, like a lover not a daughter, so she lifted her head and kissed him again, rough and demanding this time, but with little skill. He was the one growling this time, making a low rumbling noise in his chest, and she rested her hands on his sides, fingers playing against the leather of his clothing as she tried to figure out what to do with them.

He ran a hand up her side under her shirt and she shivered at the feeling of his hand against her bare skin. She’d felt his hands on her before; healing wounds, stroking her skin when she had a nightmare and needed comfort, but this was different somehow. Every spot he touched felt like it was on fire, and it was all she could do not to beg him to touch her _more_.

“C’mere.” He tugged her so she was sitting up again, and gently teased her shirt up and over her head, dropping it to the floor by them. She didn’t feel exposed, she’d been naked around him so many times in the past she’d lost count, and she’d seen him just as unclothed, but this time felt different, and the way his eyes wandered down her chest made her squirm just a little, a low throb starting between her legs. Irathients didn’t see female chests as sexual, but she’d seen Nolan’s eyes on enough pairs of breasts to know that humans did, even if they _weren’t_ constantly talking about them.

She found herself hoping hers were acceptable if not pleasing to him, and she watched his face, taking in the way his eyes darkened and he licked his lips, her breath catching when his hand ran up her spine and his eyes flicked back onto her face.

She wanted to ask if she was okay, if this was torture for him or if it was okay, but she didn’t, she just looked at him, taking in his expression.

This was okay.

She met his mouth with hers again, kissing him and wrapping an arm around his neck to pull him closer. He made low growling noises and yanked her into his lap, not rough or violent but forceful and demanding, like he somehow knew exactly what she wanted: him to lead, to guide her, to teach her like he always did.

He drew back after a moment and unbuttoned his shirt. She moved her hands and rested them over his, his warmer than hers and hers softer than his, and assisted, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers. She was always careful with him. She never wanted to hurt him.

He watched her, his blue eyes sparkling and never leaving her face, and she kept her green eyes down, paying close attention as she slowly revealed his skin, inch by inch, until finally she was tugging his shirt from his pants and pushing it down his shoulders and arms and off. He wriggled out of it and then his lips were finding the side of her neck and she was sucking in a sharp breath, entire body quivering as he pressed ever so gentle kisses to her skin.

His hand ran down to the small of her back, pulling her closer still until she was in his lap, straddling him with her knees either side of his thighs. He kissed across her shoulder and she dropped her head back, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to keep them open, not wanting to miss a moment of his expression or his movements.

He kissed her collar bone and she ran her fingers down his bare chest, feeling every curve of his skin.

“Okay?” he checked again, looking up at her.

She met his eyes and replied this time with a soft, “You’re perfect.”

He smiled and kissed her.  It was gentle this time, affectionate rather than just sexual, and she made a low purring sound against his lips, leaning her bare chest against his. He ran his hands down further until his fingers were digging into her ass and yanked her against him. She gasped a little and let out a low moaning noise.

The first flash of embarrassment went through her and she faltered. He faltered too and broke the kiss, searching her face for the source of her discomfort. It was one thing to want your surrogate father to teach you something, it was another to make sex noises around him, even when he had his lips pressed to yours.

She watched him, her eyes meeting his and not moving, and he nuzzled her face gently. “We can stop,” he said softly. “Go on as normal. Pretend it never happened.”

“Do you want that?” she murmured.

He shook his head. “I want to follow through, but we’re not doing this for me, Irisa. And it’s not me who isn’t comfortable.”

Just like that, her comfort returned, his words and his voice soothing her for a reason unknown even to her. “I want to follow through too,” she agreed and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his lips. He kissed her back, light and gentle, then turned them, pressing her down onto the mattress again.

“Just tell me if I do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said softly and met her eyes again.

“You always know,” she murmured and ran her hands up to cup his face and then brush through his hair. His eyes flickered for a moment, something indecipherable that she couldn’t place no matter how hard she tried and then he kissed her chest and all logical, rational thought fled her brain, replaced by how _amazing_ it felt. His lips brushed her skin, sliding down her flesh until she was shuddering, and he kissed her stomach then a little lower, teasing and tormenting.

She pawed at his shoulders needily and he chuckled a little, the sound deep and wonderful to her ears, one of the sounds she loved more than anything, and then he started gently sliding her pants down her hips and thighs and off, tugging her underwear with them. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh as soon as it was exposed and she didn’t falter or hesitate this time when a moan slipped out of her parted lips, her head dropping back a little.

His eyes lit up and he kissed the other thigh, then made his way back up her body, laying gentle kisses across her skin as he went, the feeling like fire.

He met her mouth with his and she kissed him hard, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him closer, her legs tangling around his hips and drawing him in. He pressed down on her and she made a noise into his mouth, and he swallowed it down and met it with his own when she bucked against him a little.

He kissed her neck again as he lifted his hips and slid off his pants and underwear, tossing them to the side, and her eyes half-closed as she tried desperately to keep her eyes on him, to see and actually _appreciate_ the sight of him naked and exposed. He kissed her chest again and pressed against her and she gasped a little, wanting him so desperately she felt she might explode.

His hand trailed up her thighs and between her legs, feeling the wetness he’d created and gently slipping his fingers inside.  She went completely still, her lips parting and her eyes opening wide. She’d done this herself, but this felt completely different. She had no control over the speed or the angle of his fingers, no possible way of determining what movement would come next, and the anticipation killed her, made her body quiver and squirm and tiny whimpering noises come out of her nose.

He moved his fingers slowly and she sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes and sucking on her lower lip, riding the motions of his fingers and making low keening noises when he rubbed with his thumb. When she opened her eyes back up he was watching her, his face full of worship, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing he could imagine. “K-Kiss... kiss me,” she begged and he met her for a kiss, rough again but not painful, his free hand fisting in her hair and holding her in place, flicking his thumb again and keeping his fingers moving.

She could feel it building inside of her, faster than she’d ever managed to get there herself, and she cried out a little biting his lower lip and making him hiss as he thrust his fingers faster. Her cry got louder and she buried her face in his neck as she gasped his name out like a desperate prayer.

He slowed his fingers as she came down and pressed a kiss to her hair, large hand rubbing her back gently.

The motion was soothing, helping her to regain control over her faculties and not lose herself in a momentary freak-out. She turned her face and kissed the side of his neck and he groaned and dropped his head to the side, letting her trail her soft lips down his artery and across his shoulder, much like he’d done to her not long before.

He groaned and she kissed back up then, nipping his skin under his ear, and then her hand wandered to his lap.

He caught her wrist. “Irisa,” he murmured warningly, but it wasn’t for himself, she could sense it in his tone. He was concerned for her; concerned she’d regret this later on if they let this go any further.

“I thought we were following through,” she breathed into his ear, her hot breath ghosting over his flesh and causing goose bumps she could feel all down his body.

“Are you sure?” he asked and she lifted her face to meet his eyes.

“I’m sure,” she said and kissed him again, sliding her skinny frame into his lap and settling down where he could move inside her, letting her instincts lead her, knowing if she did it wrong he’d tell her or at least coax her right.

He rocked up against her and she felt him sliding against her, hot and hard, and all she could think about was him and how it would feel to have him moving inside of her. He slid a hand between them, guiding himself inside her, gentle and slow, and she tensed up in pleasure, letting out tiny breathless pants.

“Okay?” he murmured and she kissed him in response, his hands finding her hips and guiding her to start moving up and down, his hips matching her pace so she could ride the movements. She moaned and whimpered, her noises quiet and half-muffled against his lips and he groaned and grunted in time with their motions, completely in sync.

He screwed his face up, making low noises in his chest, and she wrapped her arms tighter around his neck as he kissed her throat and chest, her bounces in his lap getting faster. She could feel him moving inside of her, _Nolan_ , _her Nolan_ , and she was surprised it didn’t feel uncomfortable. She buried her face in his shoulder and whimpered and gasped a few times as she tried to get an angle that was more than just _pleasurable_ , and then he was grabbing her, his hands firm and strong on her hips and turning them, pressing down on her for a third time and lifting her leg with a hand under her knee and pushing up and into her with rough insistence.

She cried out at that and arched her back, digging her nails into the sheets beneath her. He kissed her chest and neck and slammed into her again. He didn’t seem to be holding back, but at the same time he wasn’t hurting her, not even coming close, and she moaned and squirmed, trying to get a grip on something, _anything_ , to give her something to do with her hands. He drew out almost all the way and slammed back in hard and she sat up and kissed him, biting at his lower lip and making low growling noises when he bit back, hauling her closer, still mostly on top of her but more upright now, to push in harder and faster, his pace quickening as she keened into his mouth.

He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her in place and rocking into her, and his other hand slid between her legs, rubbing insistently. Her vision blurred, lights flashing across it, and she cried out again, into his mouth this time, as he growled and grunted back at her. She shouted and he swallowed it down, muffling the sound. Her vision swam and her body buzzed with the aftermath of her pleasure and he kept moving. It felt good, not as amazing as it had a moment ago but still _good_ , and she bit the side of his neck, sucking a little and running her hands down his back, coaxing him to his own orgasm.

He cried out, muffled against her shoulder as he came too and she closed her eyes, feeling it inside of her, and clung to him, his arms around hers and hers around his, her mouth against his shoulder and his against hers.

“Okay?” he murmured against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder without pulling out, without moving.

She made a tiny giggling sound, wondering how often he could ask that in one night, and nodded, kissing his shoulder too. “Yeah.”

He pulled her a little closer and lay down on his side, wrapping around her and tucking her up to his chest. She forced her breathing to slow down from the desperate pants it had worked itself up to and buried her face, smiling stupidly to herself.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

He closed his eyes and kissed her hair. “Thanks,” he replied.

She didn’t move after that, staying quiet and comfy against his chest and eventually dozing off.

***

When he woke she was packing their things up and he squinted at her and she squinted back. She was dressed, knives on her back and pants low-slung on her hips. He was still naked, but covered by the blanket she’d thrown over him, not for any sense of modesty but because he’d started shivering at some point and hadn’t stopped until she’d tucked the blanket around him.

“You okay?” he asked.

“You said we were going today.” She zipped up the bag. “Thought I’d save your lazy ass the trouble of packing.”

“You better’ve left me some clothes out,” he informed her.

She tossed a shirt, pants and some underwear at his head. “All you get,” she retorted. “Meet you downstairs. I’ll get us food.”

She walked out and grinned a little at the sound of him yelping, “DON’T BUY US SHTAKO AGAIN!” at the top of his lungs.

Nothing changed after that, really, but he didn’t let her drink again.

Not for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have an idea for a sequel, but for now this can stand as a one-shot.


End file.
